The Witch Queen

Part One: the Queen

"You can't do this!"

The pain in my chest grew as she looked at me. This was a fight I was going to lose, I could tell, but that didn't stop me.

"'This', is part of the plan, Yvette. Stop acting like a child. Now, take the necklace. It's a gift from your dear Mother." She slipped it over my head as I stood frozen.

The necklace felt heavy against my collarbone, pulsing like a dark reminder of who I was. "You're sending me off to marry some old timer King."

Mother's gaze narrowed on me. "The SwanKingdom will finally pay for their transgressions. It is your duty to the Coven—."

"Mother, I don't love this man!" I said. "I'm in love with another. I won't marry the King!"

"That forest boy?" Mother scoffed. "He is of no use to us."

"You're wrong! He makes me happy," I declared. "I love him."

"There are things greater than love! We all must make sacrifices. You—" Mother's staff slammed against the floor of the cottage, the excess magic sparking into my pores, "—will marry the King!"

* * * * * *

After the wedding, I was sent away without a second thought.

My new husband's only words to his new wife were "don't get in my way" and "be pretty". Oh, if that's my only job then, let me paint you a picture of my face and leave it here for you. Other than that, I was welcomed into the castle with wary glances and harmless whispers. Thanks to my mother, I'm sure. Her spells could work wonders some claimed.

The servants treated me well enough, but the rumors that spread upon my arrival caught like wildfire. I was a witch in the forest who killed children and ate them for supper; I turned into a wolf at night and ran naked in the moonlight; and my personal favorite, I bathed in the blood of my enemies.

If I did take up the tall tale of killing children for my supper, I'd certainly choose the Princess to be my first prey. The King's youngest child was an intolerable little brat. She was fifteen—I was only four years her senior for Heaven's sake!—and treated everyone around her like the dirt under her pretty pink slippers. The only ones who were blind to her evil nature were her father and six older brothers.

The servants seemed to like me only slightly better than the sweet, innocent Princess Elisa. I avoided her presence as one might avoid the Plague.

Two months into my queenly reign, and I thought I was living my duty to stay out of the way and look pretty in the best way I could, by staying in my room or exploring the gardens. However, today, the King's first son would be returning home after a long leave of absence.

"All Hail the Prince of the SwanKingdom!" Trumpets sounded, cheers were heard.

Now that I was Queen, I was required to be at events such as these.

Dressed in a dark ruby dress with black pearls dotting the skirt, I stood like the head of a stag the King had shot down just to put above the fireplace in the great hall. My hair was held up by a net decorated with the same black pearls. Tendrils of unruly black curls twisted their way into my face and suddenly, my soul ached to shed the gown like the chains that bound me and run free, letting my hair run as wild as I did. I looked every part of the witch queen they wished to make me out to be.

"My son, we welcome you home." At the sound of my husband's voice, I snapped to attention, turning my head back to the procession that had come before us.